Letters—the writing of

Of these two stories, I should have clicked the one on the left. But of course I didn't.

Who needs to read what the future is for books? There will be more of them. End of story.

What's more intriguing is the matter of the love letter. Who writes love letters now? No one. No one I know of. People can barely bother to use entire words in a text message (myself all too frequently included), let alone concentrate long enough to write an entire letter.

And to put one's most intimate feelings into print—even the handwritten variety? It seems old-school, outdated, something from a distant, half-forgotten epoch when people had both the time to meditate on such things, and the balls to put those tender sentiments down on paper.

But I am all for love letters—the writing of, the reading of, mine, yours, a former PM's. And ordinary postcards and letters and emails as well.

What's not to write? What's not to love?